


Three Is A Pattern

by NicciCrowe



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Protective!Bellamy, SMUTTY SMUT, Smut, but in a sweet way?, grounder!bellamy, i really don't like Finn sorry, some Finn/Clarke but not really, sorta stalker!Bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 01:50:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11003487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicciCrowe/pseuds/NicciCrowe
Summary: Clarke knew she was being followed the first day they had ever stepped foot on Earth.





	Three Is A Pattern

Clarke knew she was being followed the first day they had ever stepped foot on Earth.

She couldn’t really pinpoint the feeling, but as they were walking to the river she just felt… watched. She asked Finn quietly if he felt it too, but he was too “Earth-high” and laughed, shaking his head.

“The whole world is watching us, princess!”

She’d hid a smile, and rolled her eyes, continuing on, but the back of her neck continued to prickle, and she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder a few times, trying to peer into the shadows of the forest.

That was what was so different down here. Everything had shadows, and depth to it. The Ark was always fluorescently lit, no breaks from the glaring of the sun until the station rotated past, and then it was usually the glare of light on Earth, the moon. Everything was pale, illuminated, sterile. Cold.

Down here there was a richness and texture even in the air, layered smells and sensations. As focused as she was, she couldn’t help but be distracted by the exquisite feel of the snapping of a twig under her boot, and how that simple act sent a tiny vibration up her leg. Everything around her was so vibrant, yet deep. Every patch of dappled sunlight was matched with a deep cool earthiness, under logs, in the moss under ferns. Nothing was left untouched by colour.

It was breathtaking.

It was also frightening. Whereas on the Ark everything felt so exposed and metallic, here, there were plenty of places to hide.

-

Clarke could have sworn she heard an exclamation somewhere off in the tree line as she almost fell to her death trying to rescue Jasper, Miller catching her at the last second by her wrist band. There was an awkward moment of tension where she genuinely feared he would let her go, before the others were rushing forward and hauling them both back so she could scramble back on safe ground. Heart pounding, she tried to look surreptitiously into the woods where she thought she heard something, but there was no hope seeing into those shadows. They knew they weren’t alone here, but were they being watched? And why did no one else feel it like she did?

They brought Jasper home, and Clarke felt the eyes on her the entire way until she was safely behind the wall again.

-

Clarke gathered the seaweed, thinking worriedly about Jasper when she felt eyes on her again. She tensed, trying to breathe. Wells and Finn chattered away about whatever it was they were talking about, she really didn’t care. She was beginning to get annoyed by both of them. Finn seemed too… eager. Too charming. Clarke may be naïve and inexperienced, but she could smell when something was off. Her instincts were off the charts, and she knew this was why she could feel them being watched every time they left camp. So far, besides Jasper they hadn’t been hurt, but Jasper alone was cause for full-blown panic, which she knew Miller would hate.

Fuck Miller, and his “whatever the hell we want” bullshit.

-

Clarke felt the eyes, and (she told herself she was imagining this) …anger, as she and Finn walked to the bunker, him flirting heavily with her, talking about the “art supply store”. She was trying very hard not to be worn down by him, but the ground was stressful, and he was… cute. It was hard not to form emotional connections when survival was a constant question hanging over their heads.

That night, she saw the first lily.

They were almost back at camp when she saw a very strategically placed lily on the limb of a tree. She frowned, letting Finn walk a little ahead before she looked around, feeling strange. She might just be going crazy, but it felt like it had been placed there just so she would notice it. She felt the eyes on her, almost burning in intensity into the back of her neck. It made her shiver, in several ways she didn’t want to admit.

“I’ll meet you inside, Finn,” she waved, and he shrugged, loping on through the gate. She plucked the lily carefully from the tree, taking a deep breath of its scent. Unable to help herself, a huge smile broke out across her face, and she almost felt like whoever it was following her was pleased. (If, that is, she wasn’t just going completely bat shit, but Clarke liked to think she was reasonably sane.)

It happened again the next day, Clarke went out to her spot by the graves, and she saw another lily carefully placed in a tree. Her brow furrowing, she plucked it, looking around. The stem had obviously been cut, and it was the same exact flower. What was that saying? Once is a chance, twice is coincidence…

She wondered where they grew. She inhaled the intoxicating scent again, unable to help her grin, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow shift deeper in the woods. Heart hammering, she stood, twirling the lily for a second, before walking back behind the wall. She stood pressed against it for a second, trying to get her heart to slow down. What if she was being tricked? What if this was all a sick game one of the grounders was playing?

She couldn’t help but hear a little voice deep inside saying _a spear to the chest seems to be the usual method of communication; this is different._

Clarke found another lily the next day. _Three is a pattern._

Just as she went to pluck it, a flash of white caught her eye, and she saw a lily in a tree a little farther into the forest. _Danger! Danger! Danger!_ Her heart seemed to beat out in a furious tattoo, but she had no chance battling against her curiosity. The ever present gaze was on her, steadily, watching for what she would do, she bet.

Four lilies later, she saw the most extraordinary thing. The last lily was placed in the middle of a clearing of huge trees, covered in blue bioluminescent butterflies. She stood there, slack-jawed, in complete awe. She picked up the fifth lily, not taking her eyes off the butterflies. Several of them fluttered over, landing on her little bouquet, on her, and she _giggled_.

Clarke was shocked by the noise that left her, but honestly what other reaction could she have? She was on Earth, the place she’d dreamed as a child, and she had been led by some mystery person to a grove of glowing blue butterflies, when just days ago she’d been trapped in a glorified metal coffin in space.

It was magical.

She let herself spend quite a bit of time there, ending up seated against one of the trees, admiring the peace of the place. She thought she heard a light rustle somewhere behind her, but when she whirled around to look there was nothing… except another lily resting not feet from her. Her heart pounded, reaching with shaking fingers to gather this last flower to her, inhaling the scent. The person was that close to her, and _she hadn’t even realized._ She’d begun to grow complacent, always feeling this gaze so she was ignoring her other instincts, but… genuinely, she didn’t feel like she was in danger. Sure, she knew the person watching her had to be dangerous (if they were part of the group that speared Jasper), but for some strange reason she knew, at least, she had nothing to fear. If they had wanted her dead, they would have had ample time with her alone and away from camp like this. There was also the possibility it was just one of the hundred playing a prank on her, but she didn’t think so.

She sighed. She couldn’t be absent much longer without some sort of upheaval happening, or rolled ankle prevented or treated. It was nice, though, to have a few minutes to herself. She stood, stretching a bit then turning back to camp, but not without pausing and saying to the quiet, watchful forest,

“Thank you.”

-

She hadn’t been following a lily this time, but somehow in the commotion of the acid fog she had gotten separated from the hunting group she was out with. She ran to the automobile partially buried underground, shutting the doors quickly and packing the cracks with her jacket.

Sighing, she leaned against the roof, settling in for a long wait alone, strangely finding herself worrying about her watcher, hoping they made it to safety.

The next thing she knew, Clarke was jolting awake, having fallen asleep while she was waiting. She groaned, stretching her cramped muscles, and rubbed at the fogged window. It didn’t look like there was any more fog, so cautiously she took her jacket back. None of the dangerous fog drifted into the car, so she very carefully lifted the door. It was all clear, but it was also almost dusk.

Biting her lip, she debated on whether to spend another night in the car like she had a while ago with Wells and Finn, but she was so close to camp. Surely she could make it?

Determined, Clarke pulled on her jacket and set out for the direction of camp at a light jog. The growing darkness was unnerving, but after a few minutes she felt the eyes on her again, and wondered at the strange relief she felt at that. At least they were both okay.

Something was different though, this time. She began to feel a different prickle on the back of her neck, and she picked up her pace, glancing nervously into the shadows. She was about half a mile from camp, now. _So close._

A deep, rumbling growl sounded from the bushes behind her, and Clarke couldn’t help the scream that tore through her throat as she sprinted away, the crashing of leaves behind her sending blinding fear jolting through her. She could almost feel it behind her, and a feline yowl split the air as it jumped.

Clarke screamed, falling in terror and yet, nothing hit her. She opened her eyes, which were screwed shut in fear, and saw a panther collapsed on the ground in front of her, an arrow pierced through its throat. Her breath came in shaky gasps, her entire body trembling as she stared, wide-eyed at the creature that had almost killed her.

And the arrow.

It was fletched with pretty red feathers, made of smooth, dark wood. She glanced around, wildly, trying to see where it came from, but her watcher—her protector, wasn’t going to reveal themselves. Running a shaking hand through her hair, she stood slowly, wondering how she was going to take it back to camp. Not only had her watcher saved her, but they’d just provided them with a huge meal.

Just then, she heard more crashing through the under bush coming from the direction of camp, and she whirled around to see several of the delinquents including Finn rushing towards her.

“We heard the screams! We were just getting back after the acid fog happened,” Harper said, giving Clarke a hug. “Where did you hide?”

“The automobile,” Clarke answered, her voice still unsteady. All of their eyes fell on the panther behind her.

“Whoa.”

“What the hell!”

“What shot it?”

They all exclaimed at the same time and Clarke shook her head.

“It was stalking me, and... someone shot it before it got to me,” she answered, looking at the arrow protruding from its neck. The hundred stared wide eyed at her, not understanding.

“A grounder?” Finn asked, his mouth hanging open. Clarke shrugged.

“Who else?”

“But why would they save you?” Harper whispered, staring at the panther in as much shock.

“Maybe not all of them are unfriendly,” Clarke murmured, thinking back to the pile of lilies currently in her tent.

“Damn, that’s so weird. Well… now we have food!” one of the boys, Bryan, said with a big smile. The boys worked out how to carry it back to camp and they all returned. Clarke shot one more look behind her before following them, wondering why her watcher was protecting her. She ignored Finn’s worried gaze on her, not wanting to deal with his puppy dog act at the moment or all the questions she’s sure he’d bombard her with.

-

Watching Charlotte jump off the cliff almost destroyed Clarke. But… Wells was _dead_. Miller’s stupid fucking advice put it through her head that she should “slay her demons” or some crap, and now her best friend and a small, misguided girl were dead.

“We banish him,” she said to Miller, meeting his frustrated, broken gaze. After Miller growled his threats at Murphey, they began their slow, sad return home.

Later that night when Monty accidentally fried the wristbands, and Finn ran off, Clarke knew she had to go after him. Foolishly, she was less worried about the woods at night now, she knew on some level she was becoming too reliant on her mystery guardian, but she felt the eyes on her as she ran after Finn, knowing exactly where he was going.

“Finn!” she called after him just as he reached the bunker.

“It’s all over, Clarke! We’re alone,” his voice was anguished.

“Hey, hey. You’re not alone,” she tried to soothe him, and he stepped closer to her. A little too close. She patted his shoulder comfortingly, and his eyes flickered to her lips.

Oh, no. Oh no, no, no.

“Finn—” she tried but he was already leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

She freezed, eyes wide, and unresponsive. After a second she pushed him away, shaking her head.

“Finn… no…” she took a step back, but he grabbed her arm.

“Clarke… I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” his voice was soft and his eyes were wide and earnest.

“Finn, I don’t really…” she tried to pull her arm away, but he stepped into her space again, leaning in for another kiss.

A whoosh of air past her ear was the only warning, before Finn’s jacket was pinned to a tree by an arrow.

Fletched with red feathers.

“Grounders!” Finn yelled, trying to struggle out of his jacket, but it was pinned awkwardly high to the tree.

Clarke stared, wide eyed.

“I… uh… I have to go back to camp,” she mumbled, stumbling away.

“Clarke, wait! It’s not safe!” he yelled, but she was already stumbling into the undergrowth, trying not to think of the kiss, or the fact that her watcher saw it.

It was so hard to see in the dark, and she began to doubt that she’d gone the right way.

“Damn it,” she bit her lip, turning in place, trying to find some sort of landmark she recognized. She tried to think of the direction she had set out in, but Finn’s attack of unwanted affection had set her reeling and she hadn’t been paying attention.

“Shit!” she hissed, running a hand through her hair, but kept walking, knowing she couldn’t just stop there in the middle of the night. She felt the eyes on her, and she really wished they would step out and help her find her way home.

Clarke walked through the woods for what seemed like an hour, and she knew she should be growing worried, but she couldn’t stop, and she couldn’t turn back. She still felt the watchful presence, so she was somewhat comforted, but she knew she would be screwed if she didn’t either find camp, or somewhere to stay for the night.

The spear with the skull on it brought her up short, and she gasped, stumbling back. She whirled around, seeing another.

She had stumbled right into Grounder territory.

“Shit, shit…” she started to run the opposite direction, but she knew she was screwed. She was too close. There was no way scouts hadn’t seen her already.

As she scrambled up a rocky hill suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth and muffled her shriek as she was dragged down, into a crevasse in the rock that she hadn’t seen in the darkness. She could tell the person who grabbed her was a man by how big his hand was, and he wrapped his other arm around her, effectively pinning her to him as he stood stock still. Clarke tried to struggle but there was no space in the thin crevasse, and he was too strong.

“ _Calm_ ,” he whispered, his gravelly voice washing over her. She realized that the watchful feeling had left, and this man wasn’t trying to kill her.

_Oh my god. It was him._

Clarke stopped struggling, standing very still with him. The only sound their breathing. Very soon, Clarke heard hurried steps of many in the woods, urgent voices in a language she didn’t understand.

“ _Shh_ …” he breathed, pulling her further into the crevasse. Clarke followed, knowing that this man had just saved her from being killed or captured by the Grounders.

After what felt like ages, the voices faded as they continued their search for her, and Clarke tried to turn her head to see him. The darkness was too heavy though, but she could see a slight glint of moonlight in his eyes.

“Who are you?” she breathed, not daring to speak any louder.

“I’m keeping you alive,” he answered, his whisper gruff. Clarke frowned.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, but instead pulled her further in by her hand. The gap between the rocks thinned, so that they had to shuffle sideways through, him carrying his pack in his other hand before opening up into a small cave.

A stream of moonlight through the ceiling was the only illumination, and she finally got a good look at her watcher.

He was tall, with olive toned skin and dark, tousled hair. Black paint was smeared over his face, giving him a savage look, but he was undeniably handsome.

“Who are you?” she repeated, looking at him curiously. He grimaced, finding a shelf of rock to sit on and he placed his pack to the side.

“My name is Bellamy. Why are you near our territory?” he asked, looking frustrated. Clarke suppressed a smirk. He seemed annoyed at having to follow her here.

“Why did you shoot Finn?” she countered, raising an eyebrow. He huffed.

“I didn’t shoot him…” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Would you have preferred I let him continue pawing at you?” he narrowed his eyes at her, and she smiled softly, shaking her head.

“No… I just wish it had been me to take the shot,” she grimaced, and she saw his lip twitch ever so slightly in the ghost of a smirk. “But thank you.” He grunted, which she supposed was guy-speak for you’re welcome. “And to answer your question, I got lost,” she frowned, looking around them. He let out an exasperated sigh.

“Figures…” he muttered, and Clarke raised both eyebrows at him.

“What?” she crossed her arms across her chest, and noticed his eyes flicker over at the movement.

“Keeping you out of trouble is turning into a hassle,” he quipped, and she smirked in response.

“Really? Is that what the lilies were for?” her voice turned soft, and he scowled at her, not answering. Her smile widened, and she walked over to sit by him. “It was you, too, who saved me from the panther…” it wasn’t a question, but he looked away and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers. His eyes flew to their joined hands, wide with surprise.

His eyes moved to hers, and Clarke felt a strange trip in her chest, like her heart had forgotten a beat. His skin was so warm, and she could feel his breath fanning over her face.

“Princess…” he said haltingly, and she laughed.

“I’m not a princess!” she said, but he shook his head.

“You’re the leader, aren’t you?” his eyes seemed to be searching hers.

“Well, me and Miller keep things running and, yeah, I guess,” she shrugged. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and her breath caught.

“I heard them call you princess,” he insisted, but she grimaced.

“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.” He hummed non-committedly, studying her face more. Clarke felt heat pool in her cheeks, and she swallowed. His eyes were so intense, and it was silly because she had just (officially) met him, but she felt like… for some reason, she’d known him for so much longer.

“I think you’re their princess, regardless,” he finally said, as if his was the final choice in the matter. She laughed, shaking her head and looking down to where their hands were still joined. She hadn’t realized neither of them had let go, and in a moment of reckless bravery she smoothed her thumb over his knuckles.

She suddenly felt jittery. She didn’t even know this man, and yet she was what, flirting with him?

She met his deep gaze again, feeling her breath catch in her throat.

“Why did you shoot at Finn?” she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper. His eyes betrayed him, flickering to her lips, except this time Clarke’s heart raced in response. What was she getting herself into?

“I didn’t like watching him kiss you,” he admitted quietly, still looking at her lips but not moving an inch towards her.

“Why?” she asked, but the electricity crackling through the air and the dark heat in his gaze was enough answer. His gaze flickered to hers briefly.

“You’re not his princess,” he murmured, and Clarke shook her head, lips parted as her breaths came quick and shallow, heat spreading slowly through her. He reached up, grazing a trail of fire over her cheekbone with his thumb. “And I don’t share well,” he continued, his rumbling voice arrogant even when quiet. Clarke might have laughed if she wasn’t wound like a coiled spring by everything he was saying.

His gaze was resting heavily on her lips again, and lost, Clarke swayed towards him, completely enthralled.

“Bellamy…” she murmured, tasting his name on her tongue and he groaned quietly, his hand now trailing down her neck, ghosting over her collarbone and down her arm, to rest on her waist. If she even moved slightly their lips would be touching, and it shocked her how badly she wanted it. Wanted him. Her mystery guardian and admirer who had left her flowers, given her the gift of butterflies and life.

“Clarke,” he groaned, and they both seemed to decide at the same moment they couldn’t stand it any longer. Their lips pressed together, all at once urgent and soft. Clarke melted into this Grounder she barely knew, yet felt like she’d known him for a while now. His tongue peeked out to taste her bottom lip and she opened up to him, letting him take control of the kiss. She was always in charge, always having to make decisions, but with him, she felt like she could let him take the reins for this. It was intoxicating.

She found herself trying to get closer to him, ending up straddled over his lap as she met his kiss with equal fervor, winding her arms around his neck. Both of his huge hands rested on her waist, and she felt strangely small and delicate in his hold.

They broke apart, panting for air, and she met his shadowed gaze, seeing the burning desire there. Clarke would be stupid to deny that she wanted him, too, and maybe it was the heightened emotions from the events of the past 24 hours but she just really needed to throw caution to the wind, and do _whatever the hell she wanted_ right now.

She grinded her hips down onto him, nipping at his lip, and his answering growl was almost feral. His hands moved down to her hips, helping her grind harder onto him, kissing her again like he was a man starved. Clarke felt pleasure blooming between her legs as she felt his desire grow under her, pressing insistently against her.

“Bellamy…” she panted, throwing her head back as he thrusted his hips into her grinding, his hardness pressed deliciously against her clit now.

“Mmm… the princess all to myself,” he murmured against her throat, trailing hot, wet kisses down her beating pulse. Clarke gasped at his words, which really fucking turned her on.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked weakly, feeling everything spiraling out of her control but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time,” he smirked arrogantly, his deep voice rumbling around her, in her, going right to her clit which he kept his lazy thrusting against, sending pleasure streaking through her.

“Fuck,” she panted, and all logic flew out of the window as his teeth latched onto her pulse point. She scrabbled at his strange clothing, pulling buckles apart and undoing ties until his jacket fell to the floor. Pushing up his shirt, she discarded it, too, feeling up his rippling muscles that were thrown into sharp relief by the moonlight. He hummed, pulling up her shirt in return, and trailing his lips further down to brush over the tops of her breasts where they almost spilled over her too-small Ark-issued bra. His fingers deftly pulled down one cup so he could kiss her nipple, catching it between his teeth. Clarke jerked, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Shh… I’ve got you,” he murmured, letting his tongue swipe at it and Clarke gasped, throwing her head back. “Let me take care of you, Princess,” Bellamy purred, and Clarke almost moaned at his words, her inhibitions crumbling as he sucked on her nipple flicking it with his tongue and nipping lightly with his teeth, sending lightning bolts of pleasure straight to her clit. He moved to the other, lavishing the same attention on it while his fingers played with the other.

Clarke felt an intense heat starting to build between her legs and she whimpered, grinding her hips harder onto his hardness, needing more. She whispered as much in his ear, and his eyes were like fire as he picked her up, before laying her down on the pile of their discarded clothing.

Very slowly, he undid the clasp of her pants, pulling them down inch by inch, giving her ample time to change her mind. Clarke bit her lip as she was finally just in her underwear before him, blushing slightly as he eyed her appreciatively. She shivered slightly as the cold of the floor seeped through the clothes into her skin, and he smirked, reaching out for his pack.

“Knew I had to pack these today for some reason,” he chuckled, pulling out a few rolled up fur blankets, laying them out and depositing Clarke on them. She trailed her fingers over the silky softness, looking at him from under her lashes. He leaned down, pressing a kiss on the inside of her knee, then a little higher, and another one still higher. Clarke’s breathing quickened again, and she trembled as his lips ghosted over her blazing center, brushing against the fabric of her panties.

“What do you want, Clarke?” he breathed, and Clarke squirmed.

“Touch me,” she pleaded, still so inexperienced with this, but Bellamy didn’t need any further encouragement. He pulled her panties down, putting them to the side and left a wet kiss against her clit. Clarke jerked slightly, but he soothed a hand over her stomach, licking her again in a long, slow stripe up her entrance, circling her clit and sucking on it. Clarke moaned, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure, and he set to work laving at her clit, fingers teasing at her entrance. Fire rolled through Clarke, pleasure she’d never even been able to bring herself wiping her mind blank. She panted, mewling little moans escaping her lips as he devoured her, working her higher and higher with every swipe of his tongue.

“Oh god… it’s too much…” she whimpered, fingers locking in his curly dark hair. He growled against her pussy, sucking her clit harder and one of her hands flew to her mouth to cover her moan as she felt herself edging closer to a precipice, not knowing what would happen once she reached it. Her hips bucked up against him, grinding herself desperately against his mouth as he moved his tongue down to fuck inside of her, his fingers teasing small circles on her clit and Clarke screamed into her hand as the pleasure crested and crashed down on her, sweeping her away in a tide of heat. She shuddered, echoes of it spasming through her body, and Bellamy leaned up, capturing her lips in a wicked kiss. She moaned, tasting herself on his lips. He moved back, removing his pants before leaning down to kiss her again, letting his cock bump against her sensitive clit.

“What do you want, Princess?” he whispered in her ear, leaving sucking kisses down her neck. Clarke shuddered, her hips canting up unconsciously, searching for more friction.

“Please, Bellamy,” she moaned, her fingers grasping desperately at his shoulders. He teased his cock at her entrance, and she whimpered, frustrated.

“Please what?” he murmured, tonguing her earlobe as he caught it between his teeth. Clarke was going to go insane if she didn’t get something soon.

“I want you…” she trailed off, blushing furiously. He nipped at her jaw, and she tried unsuccessfully again to arch her hips up against him.

“Ask me for it, Clarke,” she could see his devilish grin, and he grinded his hard length against her clit and shit he was huge.

“In me,” she panted, and he laughed, pressing her knees further apart as he let the head of his cock nudge at her cunt, then pressed inside slowly. Clarke felt so stretched, and she moaned, feeling the delicious burn. If she wasn’t so delirious with pleasure she would laugh that her first official time was in a cave on Earth, but honestly? This was probably the most ‘Earth’ thing to ever happen to her, so what better way to go?

He thrusted lightly, allowing her time to adjust to his size as he slowly worked himself into her, and Clarke moaned with each thrust, canting her hips up to take him deeper. He groaned, burying his face into the crook of her shoulder, finally bottoming out. Clarke whimpered, urging him to move with her hips but he just stayed there for a long minute.

“You feel so good, Princess,” he groaned, finally pulling out and thrusting back in. He set a slow, hard pace, and Clarke was completely lost. She clung to him tightly, basking in the pleasure as he fucked her so deep she was seeing stars. Their breathy moans mixed with the sound of their skin meeting were the only sounds, echoing slightly in the cave.

“More,” she pleaded, scratching at his shoulders as the desire in her flamed brighter, needing more than these teasing, deep thrusts. He groaned, pressing her legs up and moving harder, taking her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Dirty Princess,” he growled, and she gasped, her inner walls clenching down on him. She saw him smirk, and he pulled out to her protest. He turned her so she was on her side, and he settled behind her, lifting her leg and sliding into her again. Clarke moaned, loving this new angle. He pushed so deep into her it was bordering on painful, but in such a good way.

“I knew you’d feel so good,” he groaned in her ear, and Clarke whimpered, her hand grasping behind her blindly until her nails dug into his arm, her other hand scrabbling at the furs as he fucked her harder. He kissed at her throat, shoulder, back, anywhere he could reach as his thrusts grew harder. Clarke was moaning steadily now, the pleasure beginning to build in her again like a great wave.

“Bellamy… oh god, please,” she begged mindlessly, and he chuckled darkly behind her.

“You like that, Princess?” he took her earlobe between his teeth again, his arm under her leg shifting slightly so his fingers could tease at her clit. Clarke bucked her hips, desperately chasing her release as he worked her higher, and higher.

“Yes… yes, yes…” her mouth dropped open in a delicate O as the head of his cock brushed against a bundle of nerves she’d never known existed and she squirmed in his grip which only tightened. He kept thrusting at that angle, and Clarke desperate whimpers were becoming cries. The pleasure was too much, it was going to overtake her.

Without warning Clarke detonated, clamping down on him and screaming her pleasure into her arm to muffle it. Bellamy cursed, thrusting a few more times before groaning with his release into her. Clarke barely had time to kiss him back before she was drifting off to sleep in his arms, thoroughly sated and exhausted from the series of events that had overwhelmed her for the past day.

-

Clarke was disappointed when she woke up alone, until she saw that her sleeping form had been completely surrounded with lily flowers. Smiling to herself, she got dressed and packed up her things, including the furs which she considered his gift to her.

Hiking back to camp was much easier in the daylight, and everyone’s relief that she was alright was touching. She explained that she’d gotten lost and had to spend the night in a cave, before going about her business as usual, ignoring Finn who was looking at her sullenly.

And if she snuck out of camp when she glimpsed a lily in a tree, well. That was her business, wasn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> Lol me trying to write a one-shot: hardy har har this is gonna be short and--  
> me: *writes over 5500 words*  
> me:  
> me: well... it's the thought that counts... right
> 
> i know it's probably really OC for Clarke to just... get it on with a random Grounder she /basically/ just met but..... is it? is it really? (this IS Bellamy we're talking about. so.)  
> (i know what i would do l o l)  
> also i didn't Beta this a ton cause... I'm lazy. sorryy  
> ALSO!  
> if you want to send me Bellarke fic requests you can message me on here, or reach me via my tumblr which is asteria-of-mars.tumblr.com  
> grandmerci x


End file.
